


A Soldier's Solice

by FluffyPennies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Castiel reflects on cute shit, Drabble, Other, Team Free Will, he can't cook, it's gr9 times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 03:11:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5989957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyPennies/pseuds/FluffyPennies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot had changed; and for that he was grateful.<br/>Alternative Title: Nostalgic Sappy Angel Writes His Memoir.<br/>762 words (drabble).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soldier's Solice

Quiet.  
That’s what Castiel liked.  
Sunny days, bright blue skies, swaying green grass; all to a background track of nothing but the soft flow of a river and the fluttering of life.  
Or perhaps it was peace in general.  
Families and children brought him happiness and hope of a heartwarming level not many other things could. And children, as he’d learned, could be anything but quiet.

The Winchester boys were his shining example.

-

Castiel had known Sam and Dean for a long time-at least in their eyes. He himself had been witnessing time’s perceivable existence for longer than their closeted minds could imagine. His experience of a state of being stretched back into a simpler time, where there was nothing but love and loyalty, and what he used to consider wholeness. He remembered every second of it. Still as stone, his entire being sustained through love of God, watching Earth from afar since it’s near beginning. Of course, his mindset on existence itself had been reshaped and remolded time and time again, and he was no longer the same angel of the Lord he once considered himself. Saving Earth had become something oddly human; a faith in the will of two boys up in arms rather than the faith in God. Yet God-driven or not, Castiel loved the peace that could be found on Earth with all his being.

Sam and Dean, of course, were once again the most pressing example.  
Their time together took up the tiniest fraction of Castiel’s life as a whole, yet managed to leave him changed forever. There was a gratitude towards them Castiel felt he could never have them truly understand. Every once in a while the skies darkened and blood marked their footprints, yet when all roads led to bloodshed they fought for each other and for a brighter world. A world where they wouldn’t need to fight at all. 

They were given a taste of this world every once in a while, over beers and boredom and stories from years ago. Dean always did his best to make Castiel laugh, and Sam would grin and leap at a chance to add his side of the matter. Castiel would often smile and do his best to join in on jokes, which the brothers always found amusing, one way or another.

Dean loved teaching him things. He loved to show him his favourite music; beaming in pride and breaking out into song at the better parts. To bob his head and move to the beat. His air guitar solos never failed to make Castiel smile in warm amusement.  
Once, Dean had tried to teach him how to cook; an idea they both knew was ridiculous yet came to pass regardless. They ignored the fact that Castiel couldn’t taste the food, nor could he figure out a microwave let alone how to cook the perfect burger. With some of Dean’s finest persuasive tactics-“I see it as a ‘why the hell not’ kind of situation”-Cas had no suitable argument against it. Perhaps Dean could make him a chef.

In the end they made one packet of mac n’ cheese, with ‘they’ leaning mostly on Dean as Castiel sat on a chair and observed the steps in deep concentration.

Four times Dean had shown Castiel around his car. Though Castiel cared much less about the means of transportation than his companion, he was happy to be shown. Dean was ecstatic. He jumped right into a vocabulary Castiel stumbled over like a lost little child. The Impala was sacred, a fact Castiel had picked up from the years of Dean’s obsessing over it. He respected that fact. From what he knew it had been in the Winchesters’ lives forever, and so Castiel treated it as what they saw it to be: a home.

-

Cheerful moments like these kept the battlefield at bay. They made Castiel feel safe, and more than that; that he belonged. When Castiel was greeted by Sam smiling down at him, and when Dean lit up when he walked into his room, there was a sense of love his holy family had never quite managed to achieve. 

Castiel laughed at the notion that a packet of over-saturated orange grain and small noodles could keep him hopeful for an entire future. Yet it could. And it did: or at least it certainly helped. It didn’t matter what came their way; that there would never be true quiet, that their fate was set in stone: Castiel knew in his heart that he could always find his peace with the Winchesters.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya!  
> I wrote the first version of this literally about a year ago; but I found it today and became pretty nostalgic. So with a few minor changes I decided to upload it here! :o If anyone has any criticisms at all on this drabble; I would really love to hear 'em. I'd like to get back into writing again, and to finally start working towards writing well. :)  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
